


A Trip Wrapped Tight

by Anonymous



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bondage, Car Sex, Gags, Hand Jobs, Kidnapping, M/M, Magic, Non-Consensual Bondage, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-20 20:25:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17629091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Louis is a witch and Harry is the human he's claimed.Harry makes a sound that could have been a protest, but it’s no more than a groan from his sealed lips. His shoulders quiver as he tries to twist his wrists and the seatbelt clearly digs into his hips and just above his crotch. Louis hears a click, click as he’s managed to wiggle enough to tighten the seat belt another two notches, and Harry moans at the increased pressure.





	A Trip Wrapped Tight

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of those "not for everyone" works. If you think of any tags I need to add, let me know.
> 
> Part 1 [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15623517)  
> Part 3 [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17401295)
> 
> This fic dedicated to Dee, so I really hope that this is their kind of smut because otherwise this would be very awkward

Harry’s shift ends at four. 

It was too easy to find out where Harry worked, and the general time of his shifts. A big clothing store like that, Louis is just another face in the crowd as he wanders the racks of fast fashion, keeping an eye on Harry as he goes around the store folding, straightening and doing other menial tasks that Louis is almost offended by. No soulmate of his should be working at a store like this, being shit on by the general public as they rifle needlessly through the wares. No soulmate of his should be ever worried about working again, and soon Harry will know that. 

Louis keeps watch over him, a Spell of Overlooking placed over himself so that no one will notice him, notice that he’s been here for hours. Everyone else who works there seem to be constantly on their phone, talking with one another, goofing off. Harry, on the other hand, is clearly the hard worker. Louis feels steps away from murder the few times Harry goes and tries to join in the banter only to be casually shut out. Everyone else is a few years younger than Harry, and clearly think they’re better than him. They don’t deserve to lick the ground beneath his soulmate’s feet. 

But they’re nothing to Louis, and come four he watches as Harry heads back to the break room. Louis waits outside the door, taking the Spell of Overlooking off and finding the bits of spells he’s brought in his pockets. 

The door opens again and Harry steps out, bag slung over his shoulder. He’s looking down at his phone, face framed by a beautiful mess of curls, and Louis doesn’t want to share this beautiful boy with anyone else. 

He refuses.

Louis jumps forward and pushes Harry against the wall, catching him off-guard. Harry lets out an  _ oof _ and looks up, eyes wide, to meet Louis’. His mouth opens, a look of shock and recognition, but that’s all that comes from him before Louis’ got the collar around his neck, the little leather circlet that brings his body under total submission, going limp against Louis’ hold. 

“Come on, baby,” Louis says. “We’ve got a whole weekend ahead of us.”

He backs away and Harry stands upright, albeit a  little shakily. Louis smiles. He rests his hand against the pudge of Harry’s waist and leans forward, brushing their lips together and then lightly caressing his cheek. 

“Open,” he says, his fingers putting pressure at the joint of Harry’s jaw. Obediently and immediately Harry’s mouth falls open. His breath smells like mint and artificial cherries and Louis loves it. 

He steps back and goes searching in his pockets before coming up with the little tin that used to hold lip gloss. Popping the lid open, he swipes a finger through the glittery red material he’s filled it with. 

Getting up on the balls of his feet, one hand going back to Harry’s hip for balance, Louis swipes the red glittery material across the bottom row of Harry’s teeth, and under his tongue in two quick motions. Then, like the lip gloss it’s meant to look like, he swipes it across Harry’s lips as well. 

“Close,” Louis says, dusting the last of it from his fingers when he’s done. Harry, dutifully, does so and Louis sees the little spark of magical energy that happens when his lips meet. He won’t be able to open his mouth now, not until Louis releases the spell. His lips should be stuck like glue, as should his teeth, and his tongue to the floor of his mouth. 

Louis smiles, content it went on so easily, and puts his hand up to Harry’s lower back. “Walk,” he says, and Harry does.

None of Harry’s coworkers question it when they leave together, they don’t even so much as say goodbye and Louis sneers at them. They’re not good enough for his Harry and he briefly considers cursing them into the form of pigs. But he doesn’t, because nothing is about to get in the way of his time with this beautiful boy. 

He leads Harry down the block to where his car is parked, a more secluded side street where he figures they won’t be bothered. Unlocking the passenger side, Louis instructs Harry to get in. Once situated, Louis pulls the magnet out of his coat pocket.

The magnet is one of his favourite new toys, and he’s been waiting so long to put it to use. 

After pulling the seat belt over Harry and clicking it into place, Louis bends down and runs the magnet around both his ankles and then the bar under the seat that moves it forward and back. He does this three times - around the ankles and then the bar. Harry sits quietly and watches.

Standing up and taking a step back, Louis utters two words and watches as Harry’s ankles are drawn together and against the bar, like the strongest magnet is drawing them together. He smiles, and bends again, passing the magnet around one wrist and the seatbelt just above his hips, and then the same on the other side, before activating them. Harry’s wrists attach to the belt in a way that looks  _ almost _ natural, enough that someone just glancing over would find nothing odd about it.

Perfect.

Finally, he take the seat belt in his hands and tugs it all the way out, until it hits the end of the belt and draws it back in -  _ click click click click - _ the safety function setting in so that it can’t be untightened. Louis pulls so that it’s tighter, tighter,  _ tighter _ across Harry’s lap and chest, until he can’t possibly do more than even squirm, and then he shuts the passenger door. 

He walks over and gets into the driver’s seat, staring up the car and throwing it into drive before he reaches over to Harry and unbuckles the leather collar around his neck. Tugging it off of him, he sees the light return to Harry’s eyes, sees the way his body freezes up for a moment, and then the way he  _ moves, _ testing out his new bonds, as if he has any hope of worming out of them. 

Louis pulls onto the road, but he goes slow, glancing over at Harry with a smile stretched on his face. He sees the way his knees knock together, though his ankles won’t budge, and the way his hips move, but only so slightly with how tight the seat belt is. He sees his hands flex as he attempts to reach for the button to undo the seat belt, although it’s just barely, always  _ just barely _ out of his grasp.

He sees Harry’s eyes, large and round and shocked, and he sees the way his mouth  _ doesn’t _ move, glued together and effectively gagged except for the mewls of surprise that have started to bubble out whenever he discovers a new limit. 

“We’re going home,” Louis tells him cheerfully. Harry looks over at him, eyes wide and wild, as if he’s only just noticed he wasn’t alone. “You don’t work this weekend,” Louis says. “And there’s no class at the university tomorrow because of a power outage that’s going to hit, oh, I dunno, about an hour from now.” He stops at a red light and turns to face Harry. “So you, my beautiful dove, get to spend some time with me.”

Harry makes a sound that could have been a protest, but it’s no more than a groan from his sealed lips. His shoulders quiver as he tries to twist his wrists and the seatbelt clearly digs into his hips and just above his crotch. Louis hears a  _ click, click _ as he’s managed to wiggle enough to tighten the seat belt another two notches, and Harry moans at the increased pressure. 

“That wouldn’t happen if you’d just stop squirming, baby,” Louis says like he’s reprimanding a child. “We’ll be home in about twenty minutes, depending on the traffic, and then I can be sure to relieve that pressure, okay?”

Harry seems distracted, though, looking out the window as people pass by on the pavement. 

“None of them are going to notice you,” Louis assures him. “You look like any other tired commuter like this. Don’t you worry, they’d look you straight in the eye and walk on past.”

Still, Harry seems preoccupied, and as the light turns green Louis, annoyed, lurches the car forward into traffic before reaching one hand over and palming at Harry’s crotch, over his tight white jeggings. 

“You’re  _ mine,” _ he says as Harry’s breath hitches and he lets out a moan, much lower this time. “Don’t you forget that.”

He feels Harry’s cock stir, and continues to stroke across the material, knows that Harry isn’t looking out the window any longer. Good. 

Not even ten minutes go by before Harry’s cock is straining against the material, and Louis’ touch is barely more than feather-light now, because there’s nothing that he loves more than the way Harry’s begun to try so desperately to roll his hips, hump upward to Louis’ hand, even when the seat belt keeps him so securely tied to the seat. He whines, high and needy, and Louis  _ loves _ the blush that’s formed high on his cheeks. Loves the way that he’s scrunched his eyes closed but he’s still so receptive, his whole world focused around Louis and only Louis.

Louis takes his hand away, putting both hands on the wheel, and Harry’s whines become frantic. He squirms in his seat but even his own hands are locked onto the seat belt far enough apart that they can’t reach his crotch, can give no relief to his clearly aching dick. The little rolls of his hips can do nothing for him, but he tries, oh he tries. He can do nothing without Louis, though. The way he twists and squirms and moans in pure desperation has Louis putting his hand to his own crotch, unabashedly giving himself the relief he won’t give Harry. 

It’s another ten minutes until they arrive at his home, and Louis casts the Spell of Overlooking over the two of them before reaching over and unzipping Harry’s jeggings, pulling out his leaking cock and letting it bob there for a minute as he uses both hands to turn onto a busier road. 

He considers pulling over the car and sucking Harry off - or even better, mounting him right here and riding him like the animal he sounds like. But instead he spits on his hand and wraps it around Harry’s dick, stroking and twisting his wrist until Harry comes with a heavy moan, shooting onto his stomach as his chest heaves, closing his eyes and knocking his head back against the headrest. 

This is only the beginning of the weekend, though, and they’re not even home yet, so Louis grabs out the last two things he’d stashed in his pocket in preparation earlier. Reaching over and tucking Harry back into his jeggings, and hearing Harry whimper as Louis handles his now over-sensitive cock, Louis zips him up and then pretends to pay attention to the road for a minute.

Before reaching into his pocket and pressing the switch inside, seeing Harry jump and squeal at the egg vibrator that’s sprung to life where Louis’ tucked it next to his now aching cock. 

His whimpers are louder this time, like a begging animal, and his hips and shoulders twist in desperation as he tries desperately to relieve the sensation. It won’t work, of course, and as he makes another turn toward home, Louis reaches over and tugs the seat belt right above where it’s clipped in place, just once, just so he can hear the  _ click _ as it gets just a little bit tighter. 

And he palms himself through his trousers as Harry writhes next to him, desperate for the relief that Louis can’t wait to give him.

Eventually.

**Author's Note:**

> Part 1 [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15623517)  
> Part 3 [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17401295)


End file.
